We Haven't Got a Year to Lose
by Random Guise
Summary: Based on the original TV show. Why is it that crisis always come down to the last moment? Bombs are diffused with one second left, victims are on their last breath of oxygen, etc. Maybe if there was more time things could proceed at a greatly relaxed pace. I don't own these characters, or any related action figures.


**A/N: Thunderbirds Are Go...almost go...well, they're getting ready. Based on the original show.**

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We Haven't Got a Year to Lose

Jeff Tracy leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. His mind drifted back to many years earlier, when he was still an active astronaut. Across the room, the portrait of his son John came to life as the eyes blinked. Jeff continued to daydream, his mind back in space. A young woman stepped up to the desk.

"Mr. Tracy? Mr. Tracy" she said as she gently shook his shoulder and brought him aware of the real world again.

"What? Oh, hi Lead-Lead" he answered as he shook himself alert.

"That's Tin-Tin, Mr. Tracy" she corrected. Her father Kyrano stood nearby and shook his head slightly. The older Tracy patriarch was spending more time drifting into nostalgia as the years wore on.

"Right." He touched a button on his desk and a candy dish with a majestic bird turned upward, dumping the assorted treats on the floor and presenting a speaker underneath. The portrait switched to a live picture of his son John aboard Thunderbird 5. "What is it, John?"

"Father, I've just received a call from the chairman of the International Spelunker Association. The participants of their endurance trials are in big danger!"

"The ISA? What do you know about them, Brains?"

"Just w-what I've read in Cave Explorer's Weekly. They, ah, started a long-term test a few weeks ago to see if people could live underground continuously for two years without coming to the surface. It's l-l-like living in your parent's basement but deeper."

"That was the happiest year of my life" Jeff reminisced. "What's gone wrong John?"

"They've made a severe miscalculation on their supplies and are going to run of magazines to read in eight months!"

Tin-Tin gasped, but stifled her scream.

"That's okay Zinc-Zinc, those brave explorers won't suffer; it sounds like a job for International Rescue!"

Before Tin-Tin could object once again to the butchering of her name, Brains spoke up. "Ah, Mr. Tracy, remember we can't use that name anymore. We lost the, ah, copyright case to a global towing company who h-had the name first."

"How do you know so much about everything anyway, Brains? Darn all those cars breaking down, if it weren't for that towing company we'd have our old name still. Very well, this is a job for Intentional Response!" Despite his millions of dollars, Jeff had chosen another name with the same initials to save money on monogrammed uniforms and stationery, not to mention toy merchandising rights.

He settled down and went on. "We haven't got a minute to lose!"

"Actually Mr. Tracy, we have...ah...345,600 minutes so we can lose quite a few and still help those p-people. I've been working on a prototype for Thunderbird 3.14 and I should get it finished pretty soon; I'll start again right away but I just can't remember how to tie my shoes at the moment" Brains bemoaned.

"Remember like I showed you, the rabbit runs around the hill before he goes into the hole" Tin-Tin reiterated as she showed Brains how to tie his shoes again.

"Thanks Neon-Neon" Jeff complimented the young woman.

Brains was about to object for her when she stopped him. "Wait...I kind of like that one. Neon. It sort of stands out; it's really bright and cheery."

"What is Thunderbird 3.14 anyway, Brains? I thought you used integers" Jeff asked.

"Usually, but I was eating dessert and the name came to me. It's a kind of bookmobile, but Virgil can carry it in a pod with Thunderbird 2. There shouldn't be any problem converting it to deploy magazines, even brochures and pamphlets if we want."

"Great! I've have to contact Virgil and let him know." Jeff pushed the button and the candy that Kyrano had just put back in the dish was dumped on the floor again as the speaker emerged. "Virgil, come in. Do you read?"

"Loud and clear Father" he answered from across the room. He had been sitting at the piano playing "I've Got the World on a String" but his father hadn't noticed.

"Oh, there you are. How soon can you get Thunderbird 3.14 loaded up once it's ready?"

"I just have to make room in one of the existing pods is all. Let me see..." Virgil muttered as he starting thumbing through a deck of cards. "Monobrake, booster mortar, Zamboni, jet air transporter, transmitter truck, popcorn popper, grappler vehicles, excavator, elevator cars, Edsel, DOMO, firefly, laser-beam cutter, golf cart, mobile crane, neutralizer tractor, the Mole...I'll just have to dump one in the swimming pool to make room. Hope Lady Penelope isn't using it."

"No worries about that; she's undercover at the circus right now. She's appearing as 'Lady Calliope and her pitchman Barker' and they're hot on the trail of some peanut smugglers; I told her the pink Rolls Royce would be a giveaway but she worked it into the act somehow. Anyway, get rid of the Edsel; we probably won't ever use that one again."

"Sure thing Father, FAB." Virgil got the keys to Thunderbird 2 from a drawer in the desk, left a security deposit and disappeared through his portrait.

"We need to find out what kind of magazines to send" Jeff pondered. "Let me ask Gordon." He pushed the speaker button on his desk again; however, by now Kyrano had glued the candy in the dish and it stayed in place. The portrait of Gordon switched to a picture of him with his back turned while he used a computer. "Gordon?" Jeff asked. Gordon quickly turned off the monitor and turned around nervously. Jeff caught just a glimpse of the screen and asked "What's HornPub?"

"HornPub? Oh...er...it's a website for...er...trumpet players who like to drink and...ah...tell stories" Gordon stumbled, glad the resolution on the transceiver wasn't any better than it was. What can I help you with Father?"

"What kind of magazines do younger people read now?"

"We don't, we do everything online. Why, did you find any in my room?" Gordon was sweating a little.

"No, we just have to send some to a group of explorers and I wanted some ideas."

"Phew, that's good. Just buy the current issue of every magazine at the bookstore; they'll find something they like I'm sure" Gordon answered.

"Great idea, I don't know why I didn't think of it. Oh wait, maybe I do...no, lost it. Guess I don't. Thanks Gordon, I'll let you get back to your trumpet friends" Jeff said.

"Trumpet friends? Oh, right. Thanks Father, I'll talk to you later; I'm going to try out a new game I have called Super Mario Nation" he managed to get out before the feed was cut.

"We're all set then" Jeff announced as he reached for some candy only to find he couldn't remove the glued delicacies. "Kyrano, better replace this candy; I think it's stale from being too old. In the meantime, let's get going. We haven't got a minute..."

"Ahem" Brains interrupted.

"...ah...we haven't got a year to lose" Jeff said as he suddenly was confused by having too much time to solve a problem.

The End

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 **A/N: I really enjoyed the Thunderbirds growing up, and even now I marvel at what they accomplished at the time the show was made. But it occurred to me; did EVERY rescue have to come down to the last moment?**


End file.
